The Palace Guard

Princess Elena has been raised to be the perfect bride and kept away from the public eye in chaste innocence. But when she becomes aware of one of the Palace Guards, her future and his life are in jeopardy.

Chapters:

The Princess - he
should call her the Queen now, but to him she would always be the
Princess - looked older than she had just one week ago. Her robes
were heavier and darker, her hair more tightly coiled, and the
bloom in her cheeks had gone. She stood on the podium with her
husband surveying the courtiers before them, her subjects. The
King certainly had a bloom in his cheeks. He seemed to have grown
several inches and his strong chin was slightly lifted as he
enjoyed the adulation of the crowd.

The
guard stood quietly at the back of the room, trying be
inconspicuous, but to his discomfort he had already caught the
attention of some of the Ladies. One voluptuous young woman was
staring at him intently and smiling suggestively. An older man
beside her noticed what she was doing and roughly pulled her
away. The guard smiled to himself, it was a long time since he
had felt like laughing.

His
situation at this castle was far removed from his one at the
Palace. When he served the Princess he had lived his days in
chaste, silent duty but here he was free to come and go as he
pleased, and he was being faced with all sorts of temptations and
distractions. From the serving girls to the married Ladies, they
all seemed more than willing to help heal his bruised heart. On
the very first night he had arrived, a maid had appeared in his
quarters and without even speaking had proceeded to disrobe. He
had stopped her as she was about to reveal her ample breasts in
the candle light, and she had been most put-out, flouncing out of
the room in disgust.

He soon
realised that here there was a general atmosphere of debauchery.
The court seemed to thrive on gossip and sexual intrigue; he had
overheard many a conversation that shocked him. Marriage seemed
to be a business arrangement rather than a moral one, and the
married men and women clearly saw the taking of lovers as an
amusing perk.

Since
his arrival he had been hounded by one married woman in
particular. Her name was Isabella, she had told him this while
sticking an agile tongue in his ear, when she was supposed to be
watching a performance by the court troubadour. She was a
handsome woman, with thick mahogany hair and wide hips beneath a
small waist. Her dress was bordering on the indecent. He had
never seen a bodice cut so low and whenever she was near him, he
found his eyes straying to the bouncing globes of flesh that it
barely encased. She noticed, of course, and played on his
involuntary lust by moistening her lips and pushing her finger
into her mouth in a way that made him hard.

It had
been a long time since he had made love to the Princess. He had
endured long weeks of conquering his desire. Now she was not only
married, but also the Queen which made her even more untouchable.
His dreams were still full of her wet quim and ecstatic moans,
and he was about to burst with unspent tension. Maybe he needed a
woman like Isabella. One that would not demand love. It would
help him focus on his task.

So one
night, when she cornered him in a dark alcove, he responded to
her flirtations. As her hand rested on his chest, he grasped it
and moved it down to cover the hardening bulge in his trousers.
Part of him was hoping this would scare her off, but she wasn't
even shocked. In fact, she was delighted. 'Such a man!' she had
smoothly murmured into his ear, 'I knew you would have a big
cock.' And his bulge grew even larger, almost bursting through
his flies.

He had
smuggled her into his room where he had played with her tits for
a while before stripping her naked and taking her roughly from
behind. She had waved her lush bottom in the air, and he had not
been able to resist spanking it until red wheels appeared on her
flesh, and then slamming his painfully hard cock into her again
and again until she was screaming out in uncontrolled ecstasy and
he was spraying thick wads of endless juice onto her trembling
buttocks.

The
following night, he had met her in the dark courtyard and pushed
her up against a wall. Biting a nipple that peaked over her
bodice, he had shoved his hand between her legs and thrust his
fingers up her. She had twisted and writhed like a crazy woman
and it had aroused him so much that he had pulled out his cock
and fucked her against the cold stone, oblivious to the rain
pouring down on them.

He had
never before had such aggressive sex bordering on the violent and
it left him ashamed, but it slaked a need in him and dampened his
hatred for a while.